CHAPTER 100: TALK WITH LIRA

Athena’s pov

The morning light felt different now, brighter, yes, but also fragile. Like the world didn’t quite trust it would last.

The palace was still broken. Cracked spires, shattered walls, and entire corridors caved in like ribs crushed by a giant’s hand. Wolves scrambled over stone and rubble, their voices filling the air with orders and questions. Rebuilding had begun, but the ground itself still remembered the battle—blood seeping into its veins, old magic clinging to the edges like the last breath of winter.

I walked among them, issuing commands, dragging the kingdom back to its feet piece by fractured piece. I had become their goddess, their queen, their banner. There was no time to grieve what I’d lost. No time to mourn what I’d become.

I had to keep moving.

I stopped near what was left of the central courtyard, now, only a jagged stone basin remained, its marble walls blackened by fire.

A voice broke through the hum of labor.

"Athena."

I turned. Lira stood a few paces behind me, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, Her dark hair was tangled by the wind, her eyes ringed with exhaustion, but it looked like it wasn’t the physical toll that weighed on her, it was something else. Something deeper.

I hadn’t seen her since the night of the battle. Since I had shattered The Binded King’s grip on this place. Since I had bound him to the throne he once coveted.

Since Lucas.

"Walk with me," I said, nodding toward the path winding between the scaffolding and broken columns.

She fell into step beside me in silence. The sounds of the rebuilding faded into a dull backdrop as we moved farther from the others, toward the old western garden now overgrown with ash and weeds.

When we reached a quiet pocket of cracked stone and skeletal trees, she finally spoke.

"I remember everything now."

Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled.

I studied her, searching for cracks in her armor. "When did it come back?"

"Fragments came first. Blurry, painful flashes after the battle. Then, like floodgates bursting open, everything." She drew in a shaky breath.

"The King’s control. The manipulation. The choices I made thinking they were mine."

I stayed silent, letting her untangle her words.

"I was a weapon," she whispered. "And I knew it. Somewhere deep, I knew. I let him use me because it felt easier to obey than to fight."

"You were a child," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "He made sure of that."

"I’m not a child anymore," she shot back, her spine stiffening. "And I’m not looking for your absolution."

I raised a brow. "Then why are you here, Lira?"

Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat. I could see the weight of them pressing against her ribs.

"Because I owe you an apology," she said finally, the sharpness fading from her voice, replaced by something raw.

"For what my brother did, he betrayed you. Lucas brought you into this middle fo everything." She shook her head.

"But I would make that choice if it brings all of us here again ."

A cold wind sliced between us. I knew what she meant before she said it.

Lucas.

Her brother. Her anchor. Her greatest weakness. They were each other’s weaknesses.

"I love him," she confessed, her gaze flicking to mine, her eyes wet but defiant. "I love him more than this war, more than this kingdom, more than you. And I don’t know how to exist in a world where I have to choose between you."

The words sank like stone in my chest.

"He made his choices," I said, the tightness in my throat betraying me. "So did I."

Now that I thought of it, if Cassius hadn’t brought me here, I wouldn’t have been able to unlock my true potential and know who I truly was.

"I know." Her voice cracked. "But it doesn’t make the cost any less brutal."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and frayed at the edges.

"I don’t hate you," I admitted quietly, though the admission scraped against the jagged parts of me. "Even when I wanted to."

Lira blinked, her lips trembling as she tried to keep her composure.

"And I don’t hate you," she whispered.

The words settled between us, painful and true.

I turned my gaze toward the broken garden. "The spell that he used, does it still linger?"

She flinched, startled that I had asked the question she had been hiding.

"I think yes," she said slowly. "It’s faint. Like a splinter under my skin I can’t reach. My magic, it’s different now. Unsteady. There are times I try to summon it and it slips out of my grasp, like part of it still answers to him. Like some tether wasn’t fully severed."

A pulse of dread echoed in my chest. "You should have told me sooner."

"I didn’t know how," she said, guilt twisting her mouth. "And I thought, I thought if I ignored it, it would fade."

"It won’t," I said. "If he embedded part of his binding into you, it could resurface. It could be a weakness Caelum might exploit."

Her eyes darkened at the name.

"Do you think he planned this?" she asked. "That he wanted to leave a thread behind, through me?"

"He always planned more than he revealed. And whether it was deliberate or not, you’re a loose thread he might try to pull."

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of it.

"I’m dangerous now," she murmured.

"You always were."

I reached out, my hand hesitating for a heartbeat before resting on her shoulder. The contact was strange, soft, after so many sharp-edged battles.

"You don’t have to carry this alone," I said.

"But you won’t trust me fully," she countered, not with bitterness but with brutal honesty.

"No," I admitted. "Not yet."

Tears slid silently down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away.

"I don’t know where I stand anymore, Athena."

"You stand with me," I said, my voice steady, but I couldn’t offer the absolutes she wanted. "You always will. But trust, real trust, that has to be earned again."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

"I want to fix this," she whispered.

"I want to fight. I want to protect him and you and this kingdom. But I can’t promise I’ll always know which way to lean when the choice comes."

"I’m not asking you to."

She glanced at me, eyes sharp despite the tears. "Aren’t you?"

The question carved through me.

Maybe I was.

Maybe I always had.

I stepped back, letting the space open between us.

"Report to Kieran," I ordered.

"Help lead the magical restorations. If your magic falters again, tell me immediately. I want you monitored."

She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I will."

"And Lira?" I added as she turned to leave.

She paused, waiting.

"You said you don’t want to lose either of us. Neither do I. But if it comes to a choice, if it’s his life or this realm, I need you to understand where I will stand."

A tremor passed through her. She didn’t argue. She didn’t beg me not to make her choose.

She just whispered, "I know."

And then she was gone.

I stared after her, the wind threading through the broken garden, carrying with it the scent of ash and the weight of too many futures I couldn’t see.

Lucas.

Lira.

The fraying edges of old magic still clinging to her bones.

Caelum.

I thought I had won something when I sealed The Binded King’s fate. I thought I had carved order from the chaos.

But the threads were still tangled.

The next war was already pulling at them, waiting to unravel us all.

And I wasn’t sure if love or loyalty would hold when it finally did.